


Vhenaslin

by RedInkOfShame



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fix-It, Sex Magic, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedInkOfShame/pseuds/RedInkOfShame
Summary: Solas felt it, then. Intrigued despite himself, he felt the connection as a pull he couldn’t quite ignore. The spirits that marked Keria and himself as soulmates were undoubtedly correct that he and Keria would fit together well, if given the chance to grow.But there was no chance for them. He could not allow for this to interfere with his plans, and he would hardly wish his path on someone like her, someone he cared for.She would be better off never knowing.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas, Keria/Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Series: Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/558772
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Vhenaslin

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by @TheVikingWoman's [Soulmate AU](https://thevikingwoman.tumblr.com/post/625447293731192832/au-gust-2020-prompt-3-soulmates-au-i-love-aus) for AUgust, and ended up quickly writing my own, despite everything else I'm supposed to be working on.
> 
> Please enjoy my silly AU, and my magic sex headcanons.
> 
> ~~And please do not closely examine the 'elven'.~~

It happened as he was kneeling beside her unconscious body. She was a small, delirious thing, locked in chains as foreign magic ate away at her. They did not think she would wake to be questioned. Neither did he. 

How could she? No mortal could hold what was anchored in her now. Even so, Solas could hardly abandon the creature. This was his doing, after all. All of it. And so he knelt beside her, and he laid her left hand in his right, palm up, and focused what magic remained to him. He examined, stabilized, and healed her as best he could, given the circumstances. Tried to give her a fighting chance. Though, perhaps, it would be kinder in the long run to aid her passing instead. 

When he was done he slid her hand out of his and his heart froze in his chest. His hand… His own palm, now, was marred with green. He examined it with wide, frantic eyes, hoping that it was some kind of transference, a magical residue from her anchor, a mirror of his power trapped in another…

No. 

He rocked back on his heels, unbalanced, pressing a hand to his forehead as he laughed. A quick bark at first, then a peal, then a snort followed by full hysteric laughter. **Really?** _Now?_

For thousands of years he had yearned for the touch of his vhenalath, his soulmate, to mark his skin! Hundreds more he’d accepted his fate — or lack thereof. He had more pressing matters to worry about at the time.

And now this? Now that all of his people were dead and forgotten and he was alone in all the world he would find his hand marked at last… By a dying woman. He knew Destiny to be cruel, but he had never imagined this. 

He’d probably never even learn her name.

~~~~~

It wasn’t until after the Pride demon was vanquished and the Breach stabilized that Keria could actually take a second to look at her own damn hand. At the glowing green tear of magic embedded in it, lines digging like roots under her skin. It looked much like the Breach itself, which made her more than a little uneasy.

The edges of it, especially towards the side of her hand, were softer, the green lines looking almost like a vhenaslin. Odd that the magic would look like a soulmark, but maybe that made sense. Vallaslin and vhenaslin magic were not well understood, nor was whatever this mark was. An elf’s vallaslin appeared after they’d done a great deed for their clan, or a rite of passage. And no one knew what made a soulmate, not really. So maybe this new magic worked in a similar way?

Once, weeks later, as they rested in a moment of calm in the grass of the Hinterlands, watching the river, she’d proposed her theory to Solas. He hadn’t seemed very impressed by her conclusions.

“Well,” she argued, “Maybe that’s why I don’t have a soulmate. The humans have a saying, something like ‘they’re married to their job’. Maybe I was always meant to end up with this thing instead. Or maybe the Breach is my match,” she laughed. “Or maybe that spirit in the Fade who grabbed my hand! ‘Andraste’, supposedly. That would drive the Chantry to fits.”

“You sound so certain that you don’t have a vhenalath, for one so young,” he replied, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

She shrugged. “Before all _this_ happened,” she said, sweeping her arm over the grassy hills and the hole in the sky, “I thought I’d met just about everyone I was going to meet by the time I was twenty. You know how insular the clans are. And none of them were my match. There’s always next Arlathvhen, but other than that…”

“And you were fine with that, with being unmatched? Is that common for your people?”

His voice was heavy, so she ignored the ‘your people’ and answered honestly. “It happens sometimes. There are people who don’t want a match, after all. Most do, though, including myself. Clan Lavellan it lucky; nearly everyone finds someone. Multiple matches, for some people; you’ve got two hands, after all. I was disappointed when my generation started finding their marks and I didn’t… Though I’ve never completely given up. It took me longer to find my vallaslin than many others, too.” When he didn’t reply, she filled the silence. “And there’s always special cases. Merat, one of our hunters, he was mated to Celissa when they were young, and she passed away. A decade later he went out to hunt, and… And he was taken by some humans, just some nearby farmers with a grudge, and by the time we got him back he wasn’t the same person anymore. He was changed. But then he touched Jedra one day and suddenly they were marked. They’d grown up together, touched plenty of times before, but this time it was different. They just had to wait until they were right for each other.”

“I supposed there are advantages to living in such a small community,” he finally answered after a pensive moment. “I imagine it’s harder for those in large cities. They might spend a lifetime asking strangers to dance, hoping they were the one.”

Keria had noticed that Solas never removed his gloves. Though the Dalish had plenty of fables about star-crossed lovers concealing their marks from their rival families or the like, in her experience only two kinds of elves covered their hands — those that had never found their mate and didn’t want people asking about it, and those whose mate had died, leaving the ink to fade away. Not to nothing, but to a greyish ghost of what it once was, only serving as a reminder every time they looked at it.

She’d wondered which type Solas was. She suspected she knew now.

~~~~~

Solas tried to keep himself distant from Keria, initially; it was not safe to spend time with her. It proved difficult not only due to traveling together and fighting side-by-side, but also because she seemed to seek him out, if for no other reason than the points of his ears. She did not feel comfortable around the humans.

He couldn’t blame her, but wished he could tell her that she should not trust him either. He tried to be aloof when he could not escape her, but she had been ripped away form everything she’d known and thrown into danger, and it was hard to feign coldness to someone so desperate for companionship.

Oddly, it was when he’d given up on pushing her away that he first truly offended her. He made a careless comment about the Dalish and she called him on it, stood her ground as they both dug in their heels. But she did not anger, not really. Her lips were quirked as she fought him, debating until he relented her point and they found themselves back on mutual footing. 

He couldn’t help but admire her for it — she could have dismissed him out of hand, but instead worked until she did not have to lose an ally. He smiled with her, and a flirt slipped past his lips, and he did knew he did not misinterpret the lift of her brow or the sway of her hips as she walked away.

He felt it, then. Intrigued despite himself, he felt the connection as a pull he couldn’t quite ignore. The spirits that bound them together were undoubtedly correct that he and Keria would fit together well, if given the chance to grow.

But there was no chance for them. He could not allow for this to interfere with his plans, and he would hardly wish his path on someone like her, someone he cared for. She would be better off never knowing.

Destiny was stubborn, though. Months later he met Keria in a dream. Surprised, he guided her to the ghost of Haven, trying to explain to her how he’d come to be here. Maybe if he eased her into it she could understand him…

There must have been another slip of the tongue, though, because she called him sweet and kissed his cheek, and before he knew what he was doing he’d caught her, pulling her back to him. He kissed her, his careless tongue tasting hers as she clung to him. He managed to pull back, only to kiss her again, and then—

Then his marked hand brushed hers accidentally in their desperation to be closer. He had not thought to manifest gloves here, if such a thing could even provide protection in the Fade. A pulse of magic surged from their palms through their bodies, intense and benevolent and undeniable. 

“Wake up!” he stammered, pushing her to consciousness, but he knew it was too late.

~~~~~

Keria woke up giddy. She immediately flattened her palm in the dawning light to study it with renewed interest. That _was_ a soulmark afterall, torn and hidden under the ugly green of the anchor.

She turned her hand this way and that, trying to get the full picture. She’d always imagined her vhenaslin would be blue. Maybe it was the Fade magic that turned it. Well, she’d get to see it on Solas’ palm, at least. 

Solas looked good in blue…

She quickly made her way to meet him, half expecting to meet him on his way to her. Imagine, the gloves he’d worn to hide that he hadn’t found his mate were the very things keeping them from finding each other all these months!

She would quickly realize that didn’t make sense, that if she’d had her mark without knowing it meant he already had his as well. Except he had known about it. And kept it to himself.

She realized this when, instead of the dramatic running-into-each-other’s-arms reunion she had pictured, she found a flustered Solas who asked her for time to work through some “considerations”.

Time passed, and he did not broach the subject again. Time passed, and she grew angrier each day that he had lied to her it to begin with. Time passed, and the anger passed, until all that remained was a deep aching pain built of rejection and loneliness.

Everything else going on in her role as Inquisitor made it impossible to deal with her romantic strife, so she ignored it, and him, and all his damn secrets. She took to eating her meals alone just in case Solas joined. She stopped taking him on missions when it was too tempting to corner him in his tent. When she had to consult his expertise from time to time, she kept it professional and painstakingly avoided noticing his gloves. 

Or else she couldn’t stop her eyes from flicking to them, then forcefully away. Surely he noticed, which only caused her cheeks to burn. She was petty enough to hope he felt guilty over it, though. 

She didn’t hate Solas. Quite the contrary, she still considered him a friend, and defended him when need be. But she knew she couldn’t trust him, and she couldn’t trust herself around him. And as much as she hated it, she had no right to force anything on him.

~~~~~

Solas walked his mount into Skyhold, returning from unceremoniously leaving Keria and the others in the Exalted Plains. She’d have been well protected by the others, he knew, and he needed space to process the death of a friend without having to watch his every word around Keria.

He was well acquainted with grief, and with regret, yet the loss of Wisdom wounded him. His return trip was bitter and cold, and felt much longer than it had been in truth. Through it, his friend’s final words echoed in his mind. “En fena’mae dirthan var elgarin, ma lethallin. Ar tel lasa enaste sera’an. Asha ghilana emma suledin.”

_It is careless to ignore the wisdom of spirits, my friend. We did not mark you lightly. She will help you endure._

He handed the reins to the stablehand, weary enough from his journey to let someone else care for his mount this time. When he reached the steps to the main hall he should have been surprised to see Keria there, cautiously watching him. She’d have known he was coming, of course; the sentries would have spotted him hours ago. But with the way he had treated her it was wrong to expect her to be there, waiting for him. But he had.

And she was. 

“How are you, Solas?”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.” He always did.

“Next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone,” she said gently. 

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone...”

She nodded sadly. “I know.”

“I’ll work on it,” he promised her. “Could we… speak privately?”

She led him to her chambers, and he went her to a balcony, still needing the fresh air. He took a deep breath as she joined him. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course, whatever you need.”

“I meant for before. Your willingness to help me, after everything. I almost hesitated to go to you for help, but as soon as I did you dropped everything to get me to my friend.”

“I had to. You said it was urgent. I had hoped we could get there in time to…” She trailed off. He’d told her of his dreams upon waking, and she had gathered the others to leave immediately. There was nothing they could have done to get there sooner. “I’m so sorry, Solas.”

He nodded. “I know that you’ve… That we’ve been avoiding each other, so I know it must have been hard for you as well.”

Keria shook her head. “No, it’s not hard to be around— well, okay, it is, but that’s… I’ve missed you, Solas.” She let out a long huff. “It’s not _easier_ for me to stay away, it’s just… necessary, I guess. It’s what you said you wanted.”

He let out a breath and stepped closer to her. “I have missed you, too,” he admitted. He took her hand in his. “More than you know.”

They were frozen like that for a long moment; eyes locked, breath held, hand in hand, each frightened of making a move that would ruin the moment. 

Ridiculous. Gently, Solas moved her hand so that it lay flat between them, her vhenaslin glowing between them. Then he peeled off the glove on his left hand, his plain hand. He felt her eyes watching, stunned, as he moved his attention to the other. He watched her eyes as he pulled off the leather and his vhenaslin was revealed. Carefully, he lined his soulmark up with hers. 

The swirls closely resembled his foci, but instead of smooth lines they were jagged like the lightning of her magic. He gave her a moment to study them; he’d long since memorized every detail. He closed his eyes and lightly pressed his forehead to hers. 

When she moved a moment later it was only enough to look in his eyes. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t seem to decide where to start. 

So he kissed her. Just a small, tender touch. “Ar lath ma.”

Keria’s surprise vanished beneath a rush of relief, and she stubbornly flipped her hand against his as if closing a book. The moment their marks touched the magic surged, pushing the air from his lungs. He could feel her hand against his and… and his against hers. He felt what she did, as if standing in her body. He felt her pounding heart and the calluses of his own hand. And he felt the dizzying array of her emotions, fear and excitement and love and more. He found he could look more closely and find smaller, more detail feelings; how she was cautious to get her hopes up, how she was still worried about him, how she _trusted_ him. 

It twisted like a knife, this unearned trust, and Keria must have felt his pain through the connection because suddenly all he felt from her was worry. Frantic he tried to calm himself, tried to give that calm to her. Could he choose what to show her? Hopeful, he focused only on his love of her. Like emptying a bucket into a thimble, he drowned their magical connection with the depth and breath of his love, of every smile and laugh and tear and sleepless night she’d caused him. 

It must have worked, because she pulled him close, kissing him deeply and pushing her own love into him. It was **staggering** , far too much to take at once, and he was almost relieved when the connection broke only a moment later. 

It’d broken because she’d parted their hands in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling closer to him.

“Keria, I— I need to tell you—”

“You need to touch me,” she corrected. 

He couldn’t find a flaw in her argument. His hands moved over her, trying to feel all of her at once, tracing lines from thighs to hip, waist to back. Deep kisses turned heated and desperate. Breath and lips tangled, as did hands in hair and in clothes. Soon they were pulling at each other, baring skin as they eased back into her bedroom, a trail of discarded clothing in their wake. He felt as if everywhere her mark touched him burned with heat, though he wasn’t certain he wasn’t imagining it. Just knowing she was marked for him as she ran her hands along his bared chest flooded his senses. 

Finally she fell back into the over-sized bed and dragged him down with her. They stayed pressed together on their sides as their limbs tangled. He spread kisses across her shoulder and neck and collarbone and any other skin he could reach. Her noises grew impatient and she wrapped her soulmarked hand around his erection. An immediate jolt of heat and desire hit him. She stroked him, and it was definitely not his imagination that the mark intensified the feeling. 

Fascinating. 

He moved, positioning himself over her as she rolled onto her back. He caught her left hand in his, preventing her from using it. Then he touched her. 

He ran his vhenaslin across her skin, intently watching her reactions. She hummed as he skimmed over her hips, stomach, ribs. She shivered when he slid along the sensitive part of her ear and the side of neck. She nearly panted as he roamed over one of her breasts, and did pant, arching into him, as he massage the other. But she squirmed, and tried to free the hand, using her other to reach for him, so he moved on. He traced across her thighs, parting them, and then, very slowly, pressed his fingers against her heat. Keria’s eyes rolled back and closed and he pushed two fingers into her slick folds. Vhenaslin did not extend much past the first knuckle, so he couldn’t be certain that it made a difference this deep inside her. 

He _was_ certain, however, that the flat of his palm moving against her mound did. She bucked and twisted as he slowly, firmly, worked her. She soon tried to quicken the pace, moving her hips hard against his hand, and he enjoyed watching her desire and frustration. He kept her there, held her there, until mewling turned to begging.

“Dammit, Solas, please…” She managed to yank her hand free this time, reaching for him, trying to align his cock with her. He obliged, adjusting so that his hips were between her thighs. Before he entered her, though, he kissed her softly once more, and then he clasped her hand. Fingers twining, he pinned her hand to the sheets above her head, soulmarks flush together. 

They felt the waves of emotion and touch from the other as he entered her, heavy with love and lust. With every thrust they felt as both the other and themselves, and they pushed their own thoughts of desire into their partner, the heat of it building and compounding until it could not be controlled. Any sense of patience was lost as they could think only of the way their hips crashed together again and again and again, fast and clumsy and perfect.

Soon they came together, impossible to tell their own heightened sensations from the other’s. He heard his staggered growl over the sound of her high moan as pleasure exploded between them, shivered through their bodies and into the magic that linked them. 

Solas and Keria stayed connected for long moments as their panting breaths gradually slowed, the sweat on their bodies cooling. Eventually, reluctantly, he pulled out of her, and pulled his hand away from hers to trace her face with his fingertips. Though the physical connection was lost, he still seemed to feel the hum of her deep in his magic. 

She tilted her head to press a kiss to his palm. “I love you too, by the way,” she said. 

He chuckled, and rested his forehead against hers. “I know.”


End file.
